Suspicions
by lucidity
Summary: Faramir of Gondor’s strange behavior causes the Lord Elrond Rivendell concern. Could the Steward be disgruntled or is there more to Faramir’s odd behavior?


**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters of JRR Tolkien's books. The JRR Tolkien Estate, George Allen and Union, Houghton Mifflin and New Line Cinema have that particular honor.

**Summary:** Faramir of Gondor's strange behavior causes the Lord Elrond of Rivendell concern. Could the Steward be disgruntled or is there more to Faramir's odd behavior?

**Suspicions**

The sounds of rejoicing and merriment filled the Great Hall of Feasts as I took my placeat the table and allowed my mind to wander. More accurately, I encouraged it. I was not taking the loss of my only daughter to a mortal man very well, despite him being one whom I deeply loved. The race of Men was full of hope for their future, and I could not begrudge the mortals their hope…their Estel. Now he was wed to my Arwen,and Ihad to leave her there…forever.

My heart ached with the pangs of loss and I scanned the table looking for some mental distraction. Those gathered were deliriously happy, save one. The young Steward of Gondor, Faramir, was strangely quiet. The healer in me noted the slight tremor in his hand as he pushed the food around on his plate. The handsome young man looked exhausted, the dark smudges beneath his eyes were evidence of his weariness. I had heard that all were pleased with the return of their king, but could this young man be unhappy that the king would now rule this realm, the one his family had governed for so long?

I decided to watch this Faramir more closely. Estel, or King Elessar as I hadto call him now, was too full of his joy to need worry about any malcontent. I watched as Faramir frowned at his glass when Imrahil called for a toast. "Good health and long life to the King and his Queen!" Faramir somberly stared at the glass before finally taking it and sipping a tiny amount of the red liquid.

Several more toasts followed and the Steward drank each time, yet was each time reluctant. Strange. I had not met a mortal yet who did not enjoy the indulgence of a fine vintage, or any alcohol for that matter. It was at this time that I noticed the man hovering behind Faramir, his personal guard perhaps. The man looked quite troubled and haggard, as though he had not slept well. Perhaps this Faramir was just too involved in nighttime revelry and did not give his guard rest. I was distracted from my musings when Glorfindel directed a question to me and my thoughts turned back to the evening's festivities.

I forgot about the man for a while, until later that night when I found myself pondering about the kind of people who would be surrounding my daughter. My thoughts returned to Faramir. To ease my troubled mind,I decided to walk in the Courtyard of the Fountain and see the young sapling of the White Tree. I was seated near the fountain, finding peace in the sound of the flowing water, when I heard the gate open again and two figures scramble through. I sat in the darkness waiting to see who had come out at this late night hour.

I heard a soft moan ere one asked the other to shut the door. I recognized the voice as that of Faramir and noted that his voice was wrought with anguish. The healer in me wished to respond, yet I needed to know more about the young man's actions this night. Was he a threat to my adopted son or to my daughter?

Faramir ambled unsteadily along the confines, with one hand over his eyes and the other feeling his way along the stone wall. Almost reaching the corner, he stopped and doubled over for a moment, hissing between his clenched teeth as the hand along the wall clawed, leaving faint red streaks behind. The guard began to approach, but Faramir stayed his movements with a soft "No," and the guard grudgingly returned to his post at the door.

I was astounded by this queer behavior. Why did the guard not get a healer? Even if the young Steward had imbibed too much and was now suffering the effects, which seemed unlikely, this could be simply treated.

My attention was brought back to the young man who was now straightening and uncovering his eyes, blinking owlishly. As he turned toward the guard I could see that Faramir's face was flushed and his breathing laboured, as though he had just finished a footrace. A relieved smile then spread across his features and he started for the exit when he of a sudden stayed his movements and shook his head, whimpering softly and stumbling back a few steps. I looked to the guard,whose countenance was strained, yet he did nothing.

Curious at this most strange behavior,I watched Faramir for a few moments more,when I observed him bending forward and stifling a groan. I could no longer stand by and watch.

"Why do you allow your lord to suffer?" I asked curtly as I strode from the shadows.

The guard jumped, obviously startled, and drew his sword. "Who goes there?"

" 'Tis Lord Elrond of Rivendell," I answered in my most authoritative tone. "I ask again,why do you not assist your lord?"

"I am forbidden from doing anything against my lord's orders," the guard earnestly answered. I noticed that as the guard met my gaze his eyes were tearful.

"What is your name?" I asked more softly.

"Beregond, my lord."

Faramir whimpered piteously as he slumped against the stone wall, grabbing his head in his hands, his face a mask of repressed agony.

"Assist me, Beregond. I will not allow this man to suffer further." I stood beside Faramir and gently touched his hair.

"Do not touch me!" Faramir croaked, his body shuddering.

"I am Elrond of Rivendell. I am a healer who will be able to help you."

"None can help me. I am cursed," Faramir hissed.

"You are in pain. Allow me to ease your suffering."

"'Tis beyond hope. Leave me be," the young man ground out through a tightly clenched jaw.

I reached out and placed my hand firmly on the back of Faramir's head. The young Steward cried out and Beregond swiftly drew his sword and placed the tip at my neck. I ignored the guard and closed my eyes, allowing the healing powers to course through me to the young Steward.

As I touched him I could see the source of the young man's pain: he was experiencing visions. I saw snatches of what was in his mind—a torrent of brilliant colors, radiant reds, gleaming oranges, and blinding yellows crashing like waves over the young man's mind. Accompanying the colors were the sounds of many voices, talking one over another, the cacophony most unsettling even to one so well-trained as I. Using my abilities I blunted the imagery, restraining it in his mind.

It was no wonder Faramir was aggrieved. The tide of vivid images washing over him would be much for the mind of a Man to bear.

The young man's body slowly began to relax under my hand. I could feel the tension recede, and the pain with it. I opened my eyes as a drop of rain landed on my hand. Sighing, I released Faramir's head and spoke. "Come, let us retire to your room, where we can speak in privacy. The open courtyard is not the best place for such things."

With the assistance of the guard and myself Faramir stood, swaying a bit.

"Move slowly, young one. We will assist you in returning to your room," I said reassuringly.

"How d-did you… I do not understand," Faramir stammered, clearly bewildered.

"Elves have many abilities ofwhich humans know not. The time for talk is later. Come."

We slowly made our way up to Faramir's apartments. No one spoke until Faramir was lying on his bed, his heavy-lidded eyes peering at me. "Thank you," he said in barely more than a whisper.

Nodding, I sent Beregond to brew a special blend of calming tea for Faramir and took a seat at the Steward's bedside. Needing to put my final suspicions to rest ere the guard could return I softly questioned the young man. "Why were you in the courtyard?"

"I had no wish to disturb anyone's sleep," Faramir answered sheepishly, his pale face suffusing with color.

"Yet the courtyard is not far from the sleeping guests," I countered.

"I usually go farther,but the affliction came upon me too soon," Faramir replied.

Nodding, I continued my questioning. "How long have you suffered with this affliction?"

"When I was younger I would dream of things which would come to pass, but 'twas a rare occurrence, and only in slumber did I see. Now I am overcome almost nightly with images that I cannot comprehend, and not only in sleep. It is as though I am being sent a host of visions all at once."

"They are debilitating?"

"Wholly. When they seize me,there is naught I can do. I am weak," Faramir said, turning his eyes away from mine.

"Perish the thought, young one," I said, frowning. "Does anything cause the visions to increase in intensity?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Red wine makes them more intense. I avoid wine."

"Yet tonight you could not?"

"Nay."

"Why do you simply not tell others of this?"

Faramir's eyes flew open with dismay. "Please! You can tell _no one_," he said, clutching my hand desperately. "No one can know of this weakness, least of all our _king_."

"Faramir, what you experience is not a weakness. Visions are a rare and precious gift."

Faramir's grey eyes widened as he sat up in bed. "_Gift_?" he cried incredulously. "My brother is dead because of this _gift_! 'Tis no gift, but a curse!"

"You are not faulted with your brother's death. Had you not had the foresight in a dream, Boromir would still have dreamt. 'Twas his choice to journey to Imladris and join the Fellowship. His fate was not in your hands."

Faramir shook his head, as if he did not fully believe my words. "Gift," he snorted softly. "The Valar have chosen someone unworthy." He ran a hand through his dark hair, frowning, and took a deep breath, shaking his head sadly. "I cannot think clearly," he said wearily. "How can I be of any use? I may have already failed my liege."

"Be comforted, Faramir. Perhaps it is not merely by chance that you and I have met at this time. I have the gift of foresight as well. You will need to master the visions rather than allowing them to master you. I can assist you with this, if you so desire."

Faramir visibly relaxed. "You would do this?"

"Yes, I can teach you to train your mind to master the visions," I said, wondering why the Valar had gifted this quiet, unassuming man with such a difficult gift. His mind must be quite strong to be able to endure what was to come. "I have met few mortals with this gift, it being rare even amongst my kindred."

"I would then be of use to my king," Faramir said in a faraway voice.

I pondered Faramir's words as Beregond returned with the tea, which I had Faramir drink. I dismissed his servant who would only go as far as to stand guard outside the door. It was obvious the guard was quite loyal to the Steward and perhaps felt I was a threat. I smiled at the irony.

Once the tea was finished I waited. Faramir lay back and sighed deeply. I no longer believed Faramir was a threat to those I loved, yet I had to be certain. I pointedly asked, "Are you pleased with the new king?"

Faramir smiled, his face lighting up with inner joy. "Truly. When I first heard him calling my name, as I lay dying, I loved him. We need him."

"Yet if he is king, you will not rule this realm."

Faramir continued to smile, his eyes beginning to droop tiredly. "I have no wish to rule," he murmured softly. "The king has been more than generous to me. 'Tis more than I require."

Pursing my lips in contemplation, I ceased my questioning and watched the man fall into slumber. I then silently padded to the doorway. As I opened the door Faramir stirred and turned to me.

"Lord Elrond?"

I turned to face the bed and saw the sleepy steward smile. "Yes?"

Faramir's eyes shone with love and fierce protectiveness. "I would gladly give my life to protect our King—and our Queen."

I smiled and nodded. "I know," I replied. And I did.

**End**

**Author's Note:** This is a revised version of this fic. I thank all that helped me with its writing, **Xiao Gui, Catmint and Eldamir**. Without them, I would be lost in this new fandom. Thanks for reading!


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